Misty Autumn Dance

Your womb always bled the sweetest of bloodLet me taste it, let me smell your inner lustLeaving bloody marks of my dried out lipsAll around your vagina, down on your hipsI may be oldBut still I breatheTherefore I amI may be oldBut still I moveAnd lead this danceI smeared your dirty wings with an ancient oilMade out of serpents, bats and soilTake your broken wings and try to fly againDown into the abyss, through the eternal flamesBehold the beautiful landscape belowWatch it with respect and see what it has to showThis is where the future meets the pastWhere the time stands still and the first becomes the lastI took a piece of your heartI took a piss on your soulI spit on your feeble churchI disgraced your holy whoreI want to see the daughters of the moonDance on the blood-red tideWearing nothing but their funeral dressSo innocent, with nothing to hideI may be oldBut still I breatheTherefore I amI may be oldBut still I moveAnd lead this dance